


In Media Res

by OMGitsSEDDIE



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Action/Adventure, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Minor Violence, Mystery Twins, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4210203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMGitsSEDDIE/pseuds/OMGitsSEDDIE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tales from all around the town. A collection of slice-of-life one-shots and drabbles, all starting in the midst of the action, or "In Media Res." Crossposted to Fanfiction.Net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hairy Situation (or, Dipper vs. Mabelocks)

**Author's Note:**

> Ch 1- Pre-show. Was tweeting headcanons again, and I'm pretty sure Mapleleaf would have done this just to freak Dippitydoo the frick out. Wow, those line breaks sure look weird... Anyway, I'm feeling re[morse](http://morsecode.scphillips.com/translator.html)ful that I didn't upload this earlier. Enjoy!

 

 

 

**_A Hairy Situation (or, Dipper vs. Mabelocks)_ **

* * *

" _Ugh_ , Mabel!"

" _Ugh_. Mabel!"

"Ugh— _Mabel_!"

"Mabel!  _Ughhhh_..."

Dipper was quickly growing sick of finding hair everywhere.

It was springtime, and Mabel's majestic mane was shedding again, which meant long, chestnut strands caught up in every imaginable crevice of their California home. No room was safe, least of all their bedroom.

Dipper spent countless hours every week being forced to vacuum, and every single time, the vacuum would overheat and short out, choking on the ochre tufts. Sure, his own hair was unruly, but it was nowhere near as prolific as his twin's, which would geminate more quickly than Dipper thought was humanly possible. And though Mabel was the one who was practically molting, Dipper would invariably be the one tasked with cleaning it all up.

It had been a couple of months since the shedding began, but it was really picking up the closer it got to summer. After picking yet another stray hair out of his teeth (their parents had seen fit to let Mabel cook dinner; he'd coughed up three hairballs before he'd finished his plate of lasagna), Dipper finished washing the dishes and marched down to their shared room, ready to—yet  _again_ —give his sister a piece of his mind.

The door flew open, and Dipper burst in, her name on his lips—but the room was empty. She was probably in the backyard, chattering with her friends on the phone. Deflating immediately, the brunet sighed and gathered his toiletries. He could at least take his (daily, despite whatever rumors Mabel had spread) shower while he waited for her to return.

**.** **-** **.** **/-/-/** **.** **-** **.** **/-** **..** **/** **..** **/** **.** **-** **.** **/-** **..** **/-/** **.** **-** **.**

Dipper was livid. He felt like tearing his own hair out, but he settled instead for relentlessly raking his fingers through the wild umber curls. Three minutes into his shower, he'd had to stop and get the drain cleaner before water flooded the room, pouring two bottles' worth down the pipes.

The shower drain was backed up. Again. With. Mabel's.  _Hair_.

The twin stalked out of the bathroom, towel knotted securely around his waist. He'd shower tomorrow. Maybe. His main concern at the moment was chewing out his sister and her disrespectful split ends.

He picked a pair of boxers and a t-shirt (they were clean enough, he figured) off the floor, threw them on, and stomped down the stairs, ready for all of Piedmont to hear the bitching he was about to deliver.

The preteen slammed open the sliding door (and immediately winced as his mother called him out on it). "MABEL—"

The words died on his lips. Stretched out in front of him was Mabel, kicking her legs serenely through the air as she knitted. But not with yarn. No, in front of Mabel lay a gigantic wad of hair the size of his head.

Mabel was knitting a sweater out of her hair. Mabel was knitting a  _sweater_  out of her  _hair_.

"Hey, there, bro-bro! What's shakin', bacon?" She looked up after a spell, a sly version of her signature grin in place as she grabbed a hairbrush out of her basket.

"Y-you... You're making a hair sweater." It was intended to be a question, but disgust had flattened his intonation down from alarmed inquiry to blunt surprise.

"Yep!" She cheerily ran the brush through her locks and began picking the resulting loose strands from the bristles, braiding them, tying them together end to end, and wrapping them into the repugnant hairball. Eventually, she started humming some top 40 tune, something about stars and ships and flying? He wasn't quite sure; the sudden bout of tinnitus made it hard to hear anything but the sound of his own horrified whimpers.

Throughout this, Dipper realized he'd been backing away slowly, swallowing back the impending nausea. "Um, Mabel?"

"Uh-huh?" She began knitting again, deliberately avoiding her brother's stare. She seemed distracted—wait. Was that a smirk? Was she _smirking_?

"N-never mind." He turned tail and hauled ass right back to their room.

**...** **/** **.** **-/** **...** **/** **.** **-/-..-/** _**-** _ _**.** _ _**/** _ _**.** _ _**/** _ _**.** _ _**-** _ _**.** _ _**/-** _ _**..** _ **/-.-.-**

The next morning, the young brunet found himself violently sweeping the house, fueled by his revulsion at that—that  _abomination_ —Mabel was crafting. He obsessively ran the vacuum through their room, depriving the girl of the material needed to finish her cardigan from hell. Any time his twin brushed her hair, Dipper had to fight the compulsion to burn the instrument and all the evil strands tangled up in its bristles.

A myriad of garbage bags had been filled with the stuff and hauled out to the curb. The Pines parents looked on in dull surprise and slight confusion as their son's newfound fervor for cleaning took hold of their humble abode. And yet, despite the increase in effort spent removing all this hair—

He'd stopped complaining about it altogether.

Mabel snickered to herself and folded the sweater away, putting it within easy reach. It didn't take much to manipulate her brother, and she didn't do it often, but when she did, she always went for the big guns.

She wrapped her hair up and tucked it into Dipper's ratty old baseball cap (she figured she'd cut him a  _little_  slack) as she began the lengthy task of packing her things. Her parents had hinted they were going to see their great-uncle next month, and she wanted to make sure she had enough googly eyes to last her the summer-long trip.

After some thought, she took out the sweater and gently placed it into her first suitcase. Just in case.


	2. The Trouble with Twins (or, Dipper vs. Glitter Bombs)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch 2 - Post Society of the Blind Eye, but pre Northwest Mansion Mystery. The thought of DipDop having to deal with glitterbombs had me giggling uncontrollably. These line [breAks just keep gett1ng weirder and weirder... AnywayZ, 2ead, enjoy, and don't 6e afraid to leave a comment!](http://themysteryofgravityfalls.com)

_**The Trouble with Twins (or, Dipper vs. Glitter Bombs)** _

* * *

Dipper was pretty sure he had glitter  _everywhere_.

A quick look at his surroundings confirmed that the glitter bomb had successfully detonated on target, and his assailant was slumped on the floor, stunned into submission.

He scrabbled away, scooting back on his bottom until he had distanced himself from the monster. Panting, Dipper brushed about a metric ton of sparkle dust off his person before peeling himself off the ground and taking stock of his surroundings, trying to ascertain  _where_ , exactly, his latest escapade had taken him.

**14-5-18-4 1-12-5-18-20...**

It had all started when Mabel had gotten a hold of the journal and had seen one word: fairies. From there, Dipper had spent all morning attempting to block out the unending chant of "FAIRY HUNT. FAIRY HUNT."

(He'd relented only after realizing his ears were sticky from the pancakes he'd violently shoved into them, in a futile effort to gain some reprieve.)

So he'd loaded up his knapsack, ignoring the miscellany Mabel'd seen fit to toss in, and trekked into the woods. His twin skipped excitedly ahead of him, bounding over fallen logs and other forest debris. Despite his initial annoyance, the brunet couldn't help but smile at his sister's antics. Mabel never failed to endear herself to him.

~~~

" _We_ _'_ _re going on a fairy hunt!_  Your turn, Dip-Dop!" Mabel pointed enthusiastically at Dipper. He threw a bemused glance in her direction, adjusted his shoulder strap, and kept walking. Mabel continued, unfettered by his lack of participation in the seventh round of her call-and-response chant.

" _We_ _'_ _re gonna find some sparkly ones!_ " Another look at the stoic brunet.

" _We_ _'_ _re not scared! We_ _'_ _re not scared!_ " Mabel took it upon herself to respond to her own call.

" _What a beaaaaauuuuutifull day!_ " The excitable preteen threw her head back to bask in the warm glow that filtered through the forest green and smaragdine leaves. Dipper shook his head, a fond smirk stubbornly pulling at his reluctant lips.

~~~

Eventually, with the guidance of the hand-drawn cartography in the journal, their journey took them to a tranquil dell with a bubbling brook. The hike had been going well, albeit rather quietly, until the elder Pines twin decided it was snack time, and that snack time called for Mabel Mix. (Why trail mix apparently  _had_  to have glitter in it, Dipper would never know. Also, it was almost exclusively candy.) She reached into his sack and tossed the bag to her brother.

The second he'd opened the baggie, they'd been ambushed by fairies. Biting, pinching, pulling, nagging, sparkling, flying  _fairies_. Dipper could literally  _feel_  himself being emasculated.

In a stroke of pure genius, Mabel had immediately dived straight into the water, figuring that the fair folk wouldn't risk drowning from wet wings. Unfortunately, that left Dipper out in the open. Alone.

The preteen bolted from the clearing, stumbling over fallen branches and tripping over rocks as he made his escape. It didn't help that his vision was obscured by the swarm of vicious fairies pulling at his locks and poking at his eyes.

Dipper was fairly certain that he was near an empty cave in which he could take refuge, and finally, the obstacles proved to be too much, and he hit the dirt hard after stepping on his own shoelace.

He crawled into the cave, beyond exhausted, and waved the last of the pests away from his face with his hands. A massive stitch in his side has him panting and curling up in the fetal position, but if he laid low for a few minutes, he could easily find his way back to the glade and his sister...

It seemed as if that plan would have to be put on hold. A rumbling growl from directly behind him had Dipper tensed and ready to run.

As the growl rapidly amplified into a roar, Dipper booked it, careening through the tree trunks in hopes of escaping his pursuer.

Suddenly, the wind was beaten out of him as the monster tackled him from behind, clawing at his backpack, his face, his vest—anything within its reach. Dipper kicked and twisted, flailing violently. He was trying valiantly to get a look at his attacker to figure out how to fight it, but also trying to shield his face and bag. He was failing miserably on both accounts.

Blood mixed with dirt as scratches covered Dipper's face. He sure hoped that Mabel hadn't replaced the first aid kit with glitter bombs agai—wait a minute...

**13-1-2-5-12 9-19 1-12-16-8-1 20-23-9-14**

Dipper stumbled into the clearing, dazedly making his way to his dripping sister. Mabel looked up at the sound of footsteps, and her face lit up as she processed what she was seeing.

"DIPPER!" She launched herself at him, covering herself in leftover glitter. Dipper found himself ignoring the dampness and hugging tightly back as her affection shook him out of his stupor. "I was so worried! I didn't know whether to wait for you or to go after you but the fae were still here and I didn't have the adventure sack and I didn't know where you went and I dropped the Mabel Mix and and and—"

She cut herself off, the lack of oxygen starting to become problematic. Dipper's lips twitched.

"I guess we can count this mission as a success, huh?" He poked her gently, head nestled in the crook between her neck and her shoulder.

Mabel swiped at the traitorous tears that threatened to fall and beamed back at him. "Only if I get to be the alpha twin."

Dipper's own grin faltered. "What? Mabel—"

"ALPHA TWIN! ALPHA TWIN!" She tackled him to the ground, inciting a tickle fight of epic proportions.

**6-12-21-6-6 1-12-5-18-20!**

Dipper yawned and stretched, sitting up on the picnic blanket and turning to look at his sister. Mabel had been chattering about the shapes she'd seen in the clouds and the colors of the sunset dawning on the horizon, but recently, she'd fallen quiet, watching her younger brother as he gnawed on his pen and updated the journal with notes from the day's exploits.

"I'm really glad you're okay." The rainbow bandages on his face looked super stylish in her opinion.

Dipper smiled and nudged her with his elbow. "I'm really glad you're an arts and crafts master. Who else would think to pack glitter bombs  _and_ rainbow bandaids?"

She squeezed his hand and stood up, pulling him up in a single fluid motion, and mentioned that they should probably be getting back now seeing as it was dinner time.

He voiced his own eagerness to get back to HQ for a debriefing... Mabel snickered and asked if he meant back to the attic to take a nap.

Dipper rolled his eyes as he folded the blanket back into the shredded rucksack. As he and Mabel made their way back to the Mystery Shack, Dipper reflected on his relationship with his energetic, optimistic, completely insane sister.

Insufferable though she was, he really couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather have as a twin sibling.


	3. Battle of Wills (or, Dipper vs. His Equally Stubborn Sister)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch 3 - Post Society of the Blind Eye, but pre Northwest Mansion Mystery. I really just wanted Dipper guiding Manly Dan through an exorcism by phone. Just so he could say "yeah, just toss him in there." Am I not seeing straight, or are those line breaks just getting even more strange? I should see Dr. [Atbash](http://themysteryofgravityfalls.com) and update my prescription.

_**Battle of Wills (or, Dipper vs. His Equally Stubborn Sister)** _

* * *

"Hello? Uh-huh. Yeah. How long now? ...Three days? Sacrilegious? Um... Do you have any prayer beads? Hmmm. Yeah, one sec."

Mabel bounced on the balls of her feet as her brother took the phone and wandered to their room in search of the journal. She really hoped he didn't have to make another house call; he'd been out a lot lately, and they hadn't spent much time together in the past week.

He ambled back into the hallway, idly paging through the book with the phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder. "Yeah, just toss him in the baptismal font at that church. Right in it. Yeah, the one in the town over. No, that should be it; no chalk necessary. Yep. Uh-huh. Silver's okay, but gold is better. Yeah. Yep. Sure. Just call back if he's still spitting ancient curses and blaspheming." Dipper sighed when he finally hung up the phone. "That was Manly Dan. One of Wendy's brothers got possessed by a lesser demon."

"Again?" Mabel rolled her eyes and flopped onto the sofa. This was a regular occurrence.

"Yeah, but I'm done trekking out to their cabin for anything less than the devil himself. It's a bit much."

Mabel flew over to her brother, buzzing with frenetic energy. "Does that mean it's SIBLING BONDING TIME?" She grinned.

Dipper couldn't quite disguise the deer-caught-in-headlights look on his face. "Would that involve board games?"

The brunette shuddered. "No, nothing like that. I just wanna hang out, Dippin' Sauce! Watch some bad movies, eat some junk food, cut your hippy-dippy hair, build a pillow fort..."

"What was that about my hair?" An eyebrow was raised, daring her to repeat herself.

She stood her ground, challenging his glare. In Mabel's humble opinion, the adventuresome preteen had wildly neglected his personal hygiene since their summer at Gravity Falls began. His hair reached down to his shoulders, and it looked ridiculous. And that wasn't even getting into the whole laundry situation ("I'm a busy boy! Teen?  _Man_! Man. Busy  _man_."), or the "Showering daily is too much effort, Mabel; get off my back" schtick.

"I'm gonna cut that mop you call hair, dearest brother-o'-mine—and you're gonna love it." A smirk crawled across her face. "I won't even use the bowl this time!"

Dipper's eyes flickered between her face and the door as he not-so-subtly shifted his weight to the balls of his feet.

"If you run, Dip-Dop, I'm bedazzling you to the wall." Mabel whipped the rhinestone gun out from her back pocket, aimed it at her brother, and caressed the trigger threateningly.

Dipper bounced on his toes, looking for an opening to escape, but Mabel had insinuated herself in front of his only exit, and he wasn't quite sure he could take her in a tickle fight. Finally, an irritated whine forced its way from his throat and he acquiesced, slumping down onto the floor in front of the sofa. "I'm not having fun."

Her smirk grew wide. "Dippunzel, Dippunzel, let down your hair!" She ran to get the scissors before Dipper had the sense to change his mind.

**YFG R OLEV OLMT-SZRIVW WRKKVI; SV'H HFXS Z ORGGOV KIRMXVHH**

" _Whomp!_ " Mabel slapped a barrette into Dipper's locks and skipped just out of his reach before he could retaliate.

"Ugh,  _Mabel_. Barrettes are girly!" He continued examining his newly-trimmed mane in the hand mirror before putting it on the bathroom counter and glaring at his twin.

She stuck her tongue out at him as she swept the trimmings from the tiles. "I made it and it matches your smelly hat so you're wearing it."

He stood on the toilet seat and angled his head to the side, trying to simultaneously get a good look at the hair clip in the medicine cabinet mirror and avoid falling into the sink. It indeed was a familiar image: a navy blue pine tree, similar to the one on his cap, was affixed to a silver clip, and it lifted his hair enough to keep it out of his eyes, but not so much that his birthmark was visible. He could slap his hat on over it if he really needed to.

Mabel stood on the ground behind him, his double reflected in the looking glass, as she gave him an uncharacteristically shy glance. "Do you like it?" Her eyes drifted to her sweater (he should've guessed earlier that the scissors on her red-and-white striped sweater signified that today was Forcibly Cut Dipper's Hair Day) and she pulled at the hem nervously.

Dipper's lips twitched. "No."

His sister frowned as her eyes snapped to his in the glass.

"I  _love_  it." The brunette snorted and punched him in the arm before holding out her hand to guide him off the toilet seat. She pointedly ignored his smug grin.

" _Dork_."

**SV'H YVZFGB; SV'H TIZXV; SV'H Z UIRXPRM'** _**WLIP** _

"So what're we looking for today?" Mabel turned so she could face her brother, walking backwards along the winding trail.

His nose was buried in the journal, and she took the moment to study the determined set of his jaw and the contrast of the navy pine tree against the chestnut curls. The barrette looked good on him, she decided, and his hair was a lot better when it wasn't as long as hers.

He glanced up, avoiding her studious stare. "The regular magical fauna has been scarce all week, so I asked around to see what's up. Multibear said there was something ominous lurking in the woods."

Mabel paused. Eyebrow quirked, she responded dangerously (as Dipper feigned nonchalance), "So are we running blindly into danger here to do some recon, or...?"

"He  _may_  have said to avoid the forest today at all costs, but if we could just get an idea—"

She stormed toward him, eyes ablaze. " _Dang it, Dipper_ , we can't keep jumping headfirst into the fire all the time—"

"We won't be! We just need to know what it is he wants so badly for us to avoid—"

"Then we can  _ask_  him when it's  _gone_! MB only warned you about it because he knew you'd launch yourself right into its path otherwise. Dipper, Grunkle Stan  _worries_  about us! He says he doesn't care, but you know that's not true. Let's just go home, okay? And watch some movies? We can ask MB about all this crazy monster biz tomorrow."

Dipper cursed his sister's application of actual logic and considered her offer, trying to ignore the innocent doe eyes and puppy-dog pout. He really wanted to find out what was going on, what was dangerous enough to make a  _multi-headed bear_  anxious. If the creature was in the journal, maybe he could help—and what if Wendy heard how strong and courageous he'd been? His name in the papers again, maybe a TV interview, undying adoration and praise...

"Please? ...For me?" Mabel turned up the wattage on her doe-eyed stare, determined to burst his bubble and drag him home to the safety of cheaply produced horror flicks starring washed-up B-listers.

The boy winced and looked up at his twin. "Ugh...  _fine_. But you're coming with me to ask Multibear what happened."

"Tomorrow." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, tomorrow," he sighed, acknowledging defeat.

The blinding grin on her face forced a tiny smile to appear on his own as he let her pull him back the way they came, back to the Shack, back to cheesy cult classics and junk food and all things Mabel.


End file.
